Draco's Secret
by bitchfit26
Summary: Warning: HP7 spoilers! After Harry Potter’s battle, Draco has lost his own,  before it even started. The HP series might be Dramione after all!


**Draco's Secret**

_**Warning: HP7 spoilers!**_

_After Harry Potter's battle, Draco has lost his own, before it even started._

It had started as dull pounding in his head that commenced upon sight of the Mudblood and the Blood Traitor Weasley holding hands. He can almost hear faint voices in his head aas if he's drifting to and from consciousness, unaware of the jubilation around him in the Great Hall at the Dark Lord's downfall.

The pain had escalated to an excruciating throb when Lucis and Narcissa took him back at the Malfoy Manor. Locked in his room, he found himself crouched in a corner, cradling his head. The throbbing of his head is now coupled by a familiar feeling at the pit of his being. He felt like a monster was clawing viciously inside him as the vision of Weasley and Granger persisted in his mind.

"NOOOO!!!"

He was simultaneously retching and thumping his head with his own fists. The voices he had been hearing had now been amplified. At the dilation of his pupils, visions begin to swim into his consciousness…

It was the Yule Ball during his fourth year. He was sulking in one corner of the Hall, taking a swig on his 7th goblet that night. He watched Hermione Granger laughing as Victor Krum twirled her in the dance floor. A monster roared his disapproval as the Quidditch player nearly closed the distance between him and the Mudblood, his face inches from hers.

The goblet shattered in his grip.

The next vision showed him cornered by Professor Snape on his way back to the dungeons.

"What was that about, Draco?"

"What are you talking about?"

The Potions instructor grabbed Draco by his dress robes and pushed him against the wall. "You cannot continue this! She will be your downfall! Anyone but her!"

Draco tried to struggle free from Snape's grip. "What are you on to? Who are you talking about?"

"I saw the way you looked at Granger tonight."

Snape unsheathed his wand with one hand and maintained his vice grip on Draco with the other. There was something intense in Snape's gaze that the young Slytherin cannot fathom. It was neither anger nor hatred. In the young Malfoy's eyes, it was more of fear and remorse.

"History will not repeat itself with you, Draco! I will not allow it!" Snape seemed to be babbling maniacally. "This…this inclination…you're feeling towards Miss Granger will not be pursued. From hereon, you will interpret these emotions as a need to hate her more."

A dark haze fell on him as Draco felt his whole body sagged against the wall. The next thing he remembered, he woke up with a hangover, no recollection with what had transpired the night before.

And a ten-fold increase in his hatred with Hermione Granger.

The next vision was of him during his sixth year.

There was that first class with Professor Slughorn where he found himself sniffing hungrily as the most enticing smell emanated from one of the bubbling cauldrons. The scene shifted and there was him watching the Mudblood leave the dungeons with her friends, the trail of her scent leaving him punch-drunk and confused.

The succeeding days saw him throwing furtive glances at the Gryffindor table more often than usual, searching for a bushy-haired girl. He watched with frustration as all his plans backfire due to the distraction brought about by his wandering thoughts. Professor Snape took notice of this and tried to look into his mind for the source of his trouble. He silently thanked his Aunt Bellatrix for teaching him Occlumency lest he wanted his Godfather to see the digressing path his thoughts had come to. The headaches had become persistent that he found himself one day retching and crying in pain and frustration in the boy's bathroom with no one but a stupid ghost to comfort him.

Then, everything happened so fast. There was Potter, curses were thrown then there was the white-hot pain as he felt his flesh being slashed repeatedly. Then, Snape appeared and cooed incantations at him. The scene shifted and there was him unconscious in the Hospital Wing with Snape watching him, a grim expression on his face. "I will not let her be your ruin, Draco," his Godfather had whispered before he directed his wand at his sleeping form.

As the terrible headache waned, the visions begin to vanish. He found himself crouched in one corner, his head still in his hands.

As he tried to gain control of his thoughts, realization of the truth slowly seeped in. His Godfather has been using a powerful Confundus Charm on him to save him from a terrible fate should he be found in alliance with any mudblood, worst with Hermione Granger.

_It wasn't hate. All these years, it was never hate._

Weakened, he crawled towards his bedside table and fumbled at the drawers. He pulled out a wand that he had managed to smuggle under his Aunt Bellatrix's nose.

It was the wand of Hermione Granger.

As his hands closed around it, he suddenly felt ensconced in warmth, the iciness of his being slowly thawed. It was as if the previous owner of the wand herself had placed an arm around him to comfort him.

_Can wands channel their previous owner's compassionate nature?_

_Everything made sense now, _Draco thought. _The apprehension to identify the three Gryffindors when they were brought to the Manor, the hesitation to kill them in Hogwarts. It wasn't hate, _he told himself, dry laughter slowly bubbling inside him. _I don't hate mudbloods at all! At least not her!_

Tha maniacal laughter that filled his room slowly dissolved into bitter sobs swallowed by the impenetrable coldness of the Manor.

oOOo

Draco Malfoy hated making a public appearance. History has branded his family's name as 'traitors' and 'cowards' for life. Had it not for his son's departure to Hogwarts, he would not expose himself to the tactless pointing and whispering of the people in the platform.

Another reason he dreaded this excursion transpired a few minutes ago. He saw them watching him: the Potters and the Weasleys. His indebtedness to Potter obliged him to give a curt nod, but discipline taught him to turnto the other way immediately after lest he end up watching **her** again.

"I'll see you tonight," his wife told him with a quick kiss on his cheek before she disapparated. He was still lucky like that, a pureblood witch still had the guts to marry him and he still maintained the family business despite the disgusted opinion the Wizarding community has of him. _At least I didn't end up in Azkaban, _he thought.

"Excuse me, Mister, are you Draco Malfoy?"

He pivoted from where he stood to face a young, redheaded boy looking up at him with curious eyes.

"Yes," he drawled. _It's the Weasley boy._

"So you're the slimy git he told me about?" Hugo asked, eyes wide with fascination and awe.

"Excuse me?"

"Hugo!" Hermione came running after her son. "Don't do that again! You scared me!"

"'M sorry," Hugo said sheepishly. "Look, Mum, It's the slimy git Daddy's been telling me!" the young boy screeched excitedly.

Hermione looked at the blond man with the familiar pointed face Hugo's been raving about, coloring slightly at her son's exclamation.. She clamped a hand over Hugo's mouth to prevent him from saying anything more. "I'm sorry, Malfoy," Hermione said. "Ron sometimes get a little carried away with his story telling and Hugo's memory is rather retentive…"

"Just like his mother," Draco said with a small smile. Hermione looked slightly taken aback as he had never smiled at her before. Though looking unsure, she returned his smile with one of her own.

"Malfoy," Ron nodded at him as he neared them.

"Weasley," Draco acknowledged.

Ron stooped down at his son. "Let's go get some ice cream."

Hugo whooped gleefully and allowed himself to be hoisted on his father's shoulders. "G'bye, Mr. Malfoy!" he called out as they turned to leave. Hermione's smile broadened. "He's that sweet," she told Draco, beaming.

Draco dared to watch her face. "He's a lucky man, that Weasley."

"He sure is," Hermione answered, thinking Draco meant Hugo. She dared to lay a hand gently on Draco's arm. "It was nice to see you, Malfoy." With that, she turned to follow Ron and Hugo.

Unconsciously, Draco felt for the wand in his coat's pocket and felt the familiar warmth emanate from it as he watched the Weasley's leave.

As the crowd in the platform thinned, Draco turned to disapparate. As he did so, his last thoughts were of Hermione's smile and a wish that somewhere, in an alternate universe, she was Mrs. Draco Malfoy.


End file.
